With the spear pulled out of his body, Luke stumbled, stepped forward, and then fell. Coughing as the wind was knocked out of him, each breath provided Luke with less and less air. Even with all that pain, he could not scream, only choke.

  "Luke!" Nate shouted, rushing forward.

  Sounds of a brief struggle reached Luke's ears, but he wasn’t able to wrap his head around what was going on around him. The pain was too great, breathing too difficult. The angle of the spear meant he must have punctured his right lung, something he didn't need his healing powers to recognize. Soon, he would drown in his own blood.

  Nate was by his side again then, shaking his shoulders.

  "Luke, you gotta heal yourself. Don't leave me alone down here, man."

  Luke's voice came out as little more than a croaking wheeze. "You're not supposed to shake an injured person."

  His thoughts were muddled. The shallow breaths he managed didn't provide the air he so desperately needed. Darkness crept in at the corners of his vision. Soon, it would end. No. Not yet. Luke wasn't done yet. An image of his sister on the couch flashed before his mind. A memory. Now, he had a chance to fulfill his promise to her. Dying here and now when he was so close was unforgivable. He couldn't bet on the tutorial resurrecting him. The mere thought of relying on something this alien was laughable.

  So, Luke closed his eyes and turned his attention inwards. His mana was low, too low for a flash heal of such a major wound. Thin strands of mana flowed from his metaphysical heart, out into his chest, and flowed in from the rest of his body. Luke diverted strands of his mana, moving them into a pattern to examine the hole left by the spear. It was a mess of blood. But his sight, Weaver's Eye, saw through the mess like it was nothing.

  An artery gushed blood into his chest cavity. The smallest of applications of his healing mana stitched the nick closed. A puncture through the wall of the lung received the same treatment. Stitch stitch. Blood still filled his lungs, and the puncture straight through his chest remained. Both were lethal, but the most immediate concern was getting air. Under normal circumstances, you would insert a tube into the lung to drain blood. But that was not a possibility in this case.

  Luke could, however, lead the blood through the wall of the lung and back out into his body, like digging a trench from a small pond, directing the water away and into the ground. Luke's mana made the wall of the lung part, as if coaxing it to move out of the way without damaging it, and funneled the blood out and away where it would dissolve or be reabsorbed.

  Rasping breaths, too weak, turned stronger. Luke drew in a deep, shuddering breath and coughed.

  "Thank Christ," Nate muttered, standing above him. "More goblins are coming. We have to go!"

  Sounds of fighting broke out again, but Luke wasn't done. He couldn't turn away from this patient, couldn't ignore the wounds. Even with a careful touch, mana was a sparse resource, and almost none remained as he set to stitching the rest of his body together again.

  Breathing removed the cloud from his conscious mind, and he realized other resources were available to him.

  Minor health potion.

  Luke used it straight from his inventory, and the potion’s contents appeared in his belly, vitality flooding into him. His health bar shot straight up to maximum, and energy surged through him. Despite this, the wounds didn't disappear, not really, not right away.

  The hole in his back and chest closed, but the internal injuries remained as he struggled to his feet and re-equipped the quarterstaff for support. Looking inward one final time, he saw his flesh knitting itself together at a rate far slower than what his own style of healing managed.

  He glanced at the red bar displaying his health again. Full, despite his injuries still being present for several long seconds. A discrepancy between what was immediately obvious and Luke's Weaver's Eye. What did it mean? His gut told him to trust in his own skill rather than the red bar in front of his eyes. This needed investigating.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Luke, come on!" Nate shouted, pulling his sword from the corpse of another goblin.

  System Message: Congratulations! You have reached level 4!

  "You're good?" Nate asked.

  "I will be," Luke grunted. "Let's get out of here."

  "Good idea. We have many people to find now."

  "Do you want to follow those two and see if we can find them?" Luke asked as the dust settled back onto the cavern floor.

  "Sure," Nate said, but before he walked off, he held out a stick in his hand. It was a little shorter than his forearm and thicker at the base, tapering out at the point. There was text on it in a language Luke couldn't read.

  "What's this?" Luke asked.

  "And this," Nate said, holding up his other hand to reveal a piece of rolled-up parchment. "It's a scroll of Fireball. I thought maybe you could use these. That goblin mage had both on him."

  Luke pursed his lips and accepted the items, frowning as text appeared in his vision.

  System Message: Not compatible with class: Lifeweaver.

  Luke shook his head. "Can't use them."

  "That's too bad," Nate said. "Guess you'll just have to bash things with your quarterstaff."

  Luke equipped his staff and hefted it. He nodded toward the exit, and they both left the cavern together.

  Not wanting to wait too long, Luke distributed his new attribute points, adding 2 to Intelligence and Wisdom, and 1 to Willpower. Again, he didn't feel any different even after reaching 10 in both Intelligence and Wisdom.

  "Not wise, not intelligent," he muttered to himself, checking on the available skills.

  No new active skills this time either, but he could upgrade Needle of Life.

  Needle of Life [Active - Mana Cost: ?]: Use a precise touch to restore health.

  Turned into.

  Needle of Life (Rank 2) [Active - Mana Cost: ?]: Use a precise touch to assert your will upon the weave.

  More nonsense that didn't tell him anything about what the change did.

  In the hallway outside, they found no traces of the warriors who had jumped in to help them, then escaped before the goblin mage's attack. In fact, they found nothing at all. No enemies, no other people. Just a long hallway stretching from left to right, with the same high stone ceiling and walls, like they were in passageways drilled through a mountain.

  "I'm getting hungry," Nate said. "You hungry?"

  "Thirsty," Luke said. "I wonder how much longer we're going to stay in the tutorial dungeon."

  They set off going left, walking at a good clip.

  "The quest says we have to complete the dungeon, so I don't think it's based on time," Nate said.

  "It would be useful to at least get some idea about what we're supposed to do," Luke said, narrowing his eyes. There was something further down the corridor. He pointed. "What's that?"

  "Can't tell," Nate said. "Let's go."

  It wasn't a goblin. It was a guy sitting against the wall, leaning back. He wore a black trench coat too big for him, and black-colored, greasy hair hung down in front of his face.

  "You okay?" Luke asked.

  His eyes were fixed on the floor between his legs at first, but he looked up and revealed a pair of red eyes rather than blue, green, or brown. It was like the eyes were shaking or trembling, but he just sat there.

  "Joshua," Luke said, having inspected the guy and found his name. "Did something happen to you?"

  "This place," Joshua said, his voice slow and rasping. "It did this to me."

  "Your eyes are fucked up," Nate said. "The dungeon did that?"

  "My class," Joshua said. "I'm a ghoul."

  "A ghoul?" Luke asked. "Isn't that a monster?"

  "It made me a monster," Joshua growled, getting to his feet.

  For a second, Luke thought he was going to lunge at them, but then Joshua withdrew a long, thin, and wavy blade from within his trench coat. Nate's sword and shield materialized in his hands, but rather than attack, Joshua turned the knife in his hands and drove it straight into his own heart.

  He was dead before he hit the ground and disappeared a second later.

  "That was weird," Luke said, after they'd stared at the empty ground for a moment.

  "Everything about this place is weird," Nate said. "I can understand why some people get a little crazy."

  Luke pointed down the corridor. "Let's keep going," he said and walked off, stepping over the puddle of blood left by Joshua. They walked on, killed a few goblins, and avoided another cavern housing a Groll. It was eerily empty of other people. The monotonous hallways and corridors were getting old. Finally, a new color appeared in the distance: green and brown.

  When they approached, Luke saw what the colors meant. It was a forest. A wide expanse opened up in front of them at the hallway's end, but it didn't make sense. The ground sloped downward in front of them, not a mountain, but a forest path, and when Luke stepped through and looked back, it was just more forest behind them, except for the opening back into the hallway. Nate stepped through as well, and the opening closed, leaving them surrounded by trees.

  "Guess we're in a forest now," Luke said, feeling a gentle breeze against his face. Being outside was a marked improvement over being inside a mountain.

  It was a large area, spreading out before them, oak trees and birch, with wild flowers on the ground, bushes, and patches of thick undergrowth. The light of day allowed them to see into the distance, over the treetops, from their elevated position. In the far, far distance, the forest just stopped with a black wall. The same was true above, where a black ceiling hung over them.

  "Don't think this forest is natural," Nate said.

  "Me neither," Luke agreed, narrowing his eyes. "Do you hear that?"

  Nate stiffened. A rustle. Leaves. A branch breaking. Light footfalls. And a growl.